This is My Story
by Mischief in Mink
Summary: IchiRuki, oneshot. Rukia had been a writer all her life, so when it was time for her to go, there was a single memory she left for Ichigo alone: her story.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach!! Bleach © Kubo ****Tite****. The ****lyrics used is**** taken from ****Ayumi ****Hamasaki's**** Voyage. ****Voyage © ****Ayumi ****Hamasaki.**** The translation is obtained from Divine ****Ayu (****Ayumi ****Hamasaki's ****Fansite).**

**The**** first part of the**** story is written in ****Rukia's**** POV.**

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**This**** Is My Story**

Warm. It was warm.

"Rukia," I fluttered open my eyes and looked up at a familiar face of an orange-haired guy just right above mine. "How are you feeling?"

"Bad," I croaked silently, trying to sit up on my bed. The IV attached to my hand restricted me and I groaned. Then Ichigo helped me to sit, holding my thin arms tightly as he pulled me up effortlessly. Always the same protective and strong Ichigo.

"Thanks." I sighed, was rather frustrated of my powerless body.

"Nah. No problem." he said as he dropped onto a chair beside my bed. "You said you're feeling bad?"

"It's near." I whispered, not daring to look at his eyes. He just fell silent and looked away. I knew he was hiding his tears. He had been so sensitive lately, thanks to my illness that almost took me away yesterday. It seemed that the Grim Reaper had a busy day yesterday, but I could feel that he would finally find a time to visit me today.

I stared blankly at the wall. It was still the same white wall I had been seeing ever since two weeks ago. Ever since I had to stay in the hospital because my illness acted out again.

It started when I was going for a charity marathon with my friends a few months ago. I was running side by side with Ichigo, playfully overtaking each other. Then when we were only about two hundred meters or so from the finish line, my body gave up on me and I collapsed. Everything went black. My chest felt like bursting but I didn't know why.

From what I heard later, Ichigo was panicked and brought me immediately to the nearest first aid. They rushed me to the hospital as soon as they realised they could do nothing with the limited equipments available. Ichigo accompanied me to the hospital. I was still unconscious by then.

Then from what I remembered, I woke up in a pure white room, an oxygen mask was attached to my nose and they put an IV in my left wrist. When I turned my head I saw a lot of machines around and what scared the hell out of me was that they were all attached to one thing. _Me_.

Later that day I found out that I had heart problem. They said that they would do an operation to me later. It was enough to make my blood run cold—I simply hated everything related to needles, scalpels and their friends. I remembered I screamed frantically that I didn't want to be operated and the doctors said they would try to think of some other way to cure me. But until the day I left the hospital they never gave me any solution.

I lived peacefully and happily alongside Ichigo for two months and a half, then two weeks ago, just when I was typing in front of my computer, my heart decided to stop working and I was slumped on my keyboard. Good thing Ichigo noticed just a minute after or else I would already be in heaven now. Or hell. Whichever accepted me in.

For the second time, I got into the hospital. What scared me now was that I was not getting better even after getting through three operations; receiving, like, a thousand injections; swallowing at least thirty tubes of medicines and staying put in bed for the whole two weeks. Instead, I was getting worse. There were at least four mornings my body refused to wake and I just continued sleeping for the rest of the days, fed only by the clear solution inside my IV bag.

I was a writer. I _am_ a writer. Even when I was dying, I still continued to write. Writing was my passion. Writing was my life.

"Hand me the laptop, Ichigo." I murmured, pointing to the laptop on the desk. "I have to do finish my last story before I go."

"No."

"Hand me."

"No! You have to rest and it'll be okay, Rukia. You won't feel bad anymo…"

"_Please?_"

Maybe it was my innocent eyes that softened his heart. He walked over to the desk and scooped my laptop up. He held it with one hand as he set a small table over my legs, then put the laptop on it. I reached out a hand to turn it on.

Ichigo sat beside me, saying nothing. He had known that after all the attempts tried failed, I would be leaving soon. Not so soon that I could not bid him a proper goodbye, but soon enough to regret that the time we had was going to fly away in just a matter of days.

As soon as the computer turned on, I clicked open my writing software. I started to type, and type. I typed until my eyes felt droopy and my body felt very heavy it was hard to even type a word. But I had to finish the story now, or else it would remain an incomplete story.

Ichigo watched me carefully, knowing that my time would come soon. I finished the last words in my story,

_'And even though I have to die, I know I will still be living. Because I will never really leave—his love binds me too strongly to the world. And I know that I have a chamber in his heart to continue living on. Thank you for letting me in and stay, Ichigo. You don't have to search for me when I'm gone, because I will always be around in your heart._

_I love you more than the whole universe.'_

Ichigo read the words and a tiny smile flickered on his lips.

"This is about me."

"So you haven't noticed this whole time? How rude." I croaked as I laughed at him from behind my oxygen mask.

He stood up and embraced me tightly. I felt warm. I felt light. I felt peaceful.

I felt _love_.

"Thank you, Ichigo." I said as I clicked on the 'save' button on my laptop screen, then turned back at him. "And it's not only a story. It's true."

"I know," he whispered as he stroked my black hair. I smiled at his shirt and buried my head in there, even though it was not entirely possible as the oxygen mask was on my way.

I almost sent him to death when I removed the thing that restricted me from breathing his scent for the last time.

"Ruki—" he was about to say something when I cut him off, "Shh. It doesn't matter now. Wearing that damn thing or not—I'm going to go soon. And I can't afford it if I don't get a proper embrace before I have to leave."

So I buried my head into his chest as he held me tighter in his arms. His scent was always the same—the calming combination of his detergent, soap and aftershave.

"See ya again, Ichigo." I smiled as I felt my breath getting heavier. "I will be around soon."

"Smile!" I laughed, staring up at him. "I want to see your smile for the last time!"

He smiled amusedly and lovingly at me.

_Bokutachi wa shiawase ni naru tame kono tabiji wo yukunda_

_Hora egao ga totemo niau…_

_(We travelled this road to find happiness_

_See? You look good with a smile on your face)_

If the purpose of life was to find happiness, then I supposedly had lived my life to the fullest.

Because I had found true happiness in him.

I smiled back at him as I closed my eyes peacefully in his embrace. Then I dove deep into the warm light that came to take me away.

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**-Two Weeks Later-  
**

Kurosaki Ichigo sighed once again. The computer just wouldn't turn on. Hell, was it missing its previous owner as much as he did?

He had tried not to cry over her departure. He knew exactly that she would still live in his heart, just like what she said.

He smashed the computer once in frustration and to his surprise, it worked. It turned on. He grinned. It seemed that sometimes you should use violence to gain something.

He clicked open the folder that contained Rukia's old stories. She always wrote her stories simply, in a language that even primary kids would understand. Simplicity was her principle in writing a story. Short and sweet.

A story titled 'This is My Story' caught his attention. He didn't know why but he was simply curious. What was her story? Why did she call it her story?

Ichigo started to read.

_'I was sick. Deadly sick. I knew angels would come to take me to heaven soon.'_

Yes, it was her story. He continued reading.

_'I loved someone, and he was good—too good—to me. He was my strength, shelter and source of happiness. He meant everything. If I had to choose between the universe and him, I'd definitely choose him.'_

He laughed.

_'I hated to leave him. I knew it would be hard for both of us. I hate myself for being so weak. I was angry to heaven for taking me away so soon. I didn't want to believe that I could never see him again.'_

Ichigo smiled softly. So that was what she actually thought. He continued reading, and he finally came to the last paragraphs.

_'Before I left, I wanted to write a story about him. I wanted to record all the things he had done to me and showed my gratitude to him. I wanted him to know of it, I wanted him to read it. To read his story. Why?_

_Because this is my story.'_

That brought a smile to his face.

THE END

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**Author's note: Okay, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Please, review! I know this is not –that– interesting, but I had a lot of fun writing it, so…and oh, also, I had a bit of writers block with the story I'm writing, Final Distance…**


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